


it's a maple syrup afternoon

by citrusandbergamot



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: ALMOST BABY FIC, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, D/s undertones, F/M, Girl!Foggy, Matt's super hearing, Pregnancy Kink, Rule 63, always-a-girl!Foggy, definitely not Matthew Murdock, first fic, sheer indulgence, snapshot fic, who needs an ultrasound to hear a heartbeat for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusandbergamot/pseuds/citrusandbergamot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Matty,” she says, quietly after a moment. His eyes are closed and she knows he’s smiling.</p><p>“I can hear their heartbeat,” Matt says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a maple syrup afternoon

Foggy is sitting on the couch and she’s wearing her old sweats from before law school, her feet warm in socks. Matt is half-kneeling, half-curled over her lap, his left ear close to the swell of her baby bump, not touching the fabric of her shirt. His hands rest low on her hips. 

Foggy feels like she could hear a pin drop, like all the sounds of Hell’s Kitchen and their shitty apartment and the sink that won’t stop making weird sounds and the neighbour that walks around like an elephant being hurled by the Hulk are muted. Trapped in cotton and dreams and the warmth of Matt’s breath on the folds of her pants that bunch around her thigh. She cards her fingers through his hair indulgently. 

“Hey, Matty,” she says, quietly after a moment. His eyes are closed and she knows he’s smiling.

“I can hear their heartbeat,” Matt says. And that’s Matt’s joyful voice, sounding like he did that first morning after when he made her eggs and she texted him all during her evening class and he was still at her apartment when she got home and they both knew it wasn’t going to be awkward, it was just going to be _better_. 

She tugs at him and he comes up in one fluid motion and that's her Matty, surging against her like the crest of an inexorable wave, hot and deep against her mouth. 

He shudders just so as she nips at his lips, a soft bite in warning that has her grinning. His fingers immediately trail across the swell of her breast, tweaking none too gently against her nipple. There’s the barest pressure against her mound, a low buzz of of heat that flares at the sight of Matt so poised above her, holding himself upright by the strength in his arm, his form beginning to flush with tension. She pulls on his hair again, letting her fingers press sharply, possessively against his head and she rolls her hips. 

“Matty, Matty, Matty,” she says with her mouth on him and he whines once, needy and deep. 

They rock together languidly and without direction, lost in the sensation of each other. Soon, Matt’s peppering slow kisses to her jaw line and murmuring something that’s half prayer and half her name. It’s moving his hair back and forth into Foggy’s mouth and she sputtering.

“Murdock,” she says with a laugh. He looks up at her and his eyes are huge and his eyebrows take up half his forehead and Foggy’s grinning so wide it hurts, she loves him so much. 

“Get up here and kiss me,” she says, going for teasing and _nailing it_ , even though she knows there's no hiding the rawness in her voice. 

He kisses like a current is passing through them, like he’s electrified. Her hands are kneading at the dimples of his lower back. His legs sprawl, spreading for her if she wants them and he arches slowly up into her. 

As he rocks into her, one long line of heat, Foggy keeps flashing on things she’s been thinking for weeks, the incoherent whirlwind of baby clothes and little tiny shoes and what to do about the crib and the baby monitor and maybe Matt should have ultra sound proof headphones how else is he ever going to get any sleep but he’ll never use it so what’s the point, how loud does the baby monitor amplify sound, how well do you hear in your sleep Matt, and just, everything. She’s forgotten her parachute. No, it's worse than that. She’s forgotten how gravity works, that it could work on her. She’s grasping at Matt with both hands, pressing at him, at her dorky, entirely too beautiful disaster of a best friend and father of her child. She’s having Matt’s baby. _Holy fucking shit_ , they’re having a baby. 

“You okay in there?” he asks, pulling back enough for her to see his eyes, the quirked, upturn of his nose, his cherry lips. 

“Yeah, Matty, I am,” she replies, brushing her thumb across his lips, still so close to hers. His breath is warm and wet like he’s still tasting her. Foggy’s other hand is tight in Matt’s hair and when she pushes, he comes to her, pressing his nose into her neck and breathing her in deeply.

He shakes a little against her and she takes in a few breaths, moving her thumb lazily behind his ear. Eventually, Matt huffs quietly and butts his head under her chin, leveraging his hands to get his knees on either side of her proper. He rode her once like that, hands splayed for balance, her grip tight on his ass so she could push him down onto the dildo that peaked out of her underwear, murmuring praise all the while. He’d been wild that night, naked and overwhelmed, crying out every time his sensitized skin brushed the rough fabric of her clothes. Tonight, though, he only pushes his shoulder to meet the cradle of her arm and slumps into her, boneless. She catches his wrist as he strokes a big, warm hand over her belly. 

They stay like that for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know? What this is? Save that I never asked to feel this way and yet, **and yet**. Goddamn _baby fic_. And apparently I'm feeling it badly enough to post something to AOs. There's a snowball fight in hell going on right now, I can tell you that.


End file.
